


Keep On Fighting

by shynawkward



Series: Maylor [5]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Maylor - Freeform, angsty fluff, happy end, poor Brian is suffering from hepatitis, takes place in 1974
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 15:28:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17942312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shynawkward/pseuds/shynawkward
Summary: This was wrong. This wasn’t supposed to be. They should still be in America, they should still be touring but most of all their guitarist should still be with them; he should still be feeling fine.But Brian wasn’t.orBrian is suffering from hepatitis.





	Keep On Fighting

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!  
> So, first of all, I want you all to know that I am no doctor, I simply did some researches on the subject hepatitis and while doing so I also stumbled upon interesting facts about the way Brian got infected and what happened etc, by all means, I know the internet is full of lies but still I used some of the facts in the fic. Rember this is a fiction, Please excuse any incorrections whatsoever. Okay so, I hope you all will still like and enjoy it! Thank you!♥
> 
> Also, I would like to thank the anon who sent in that idea on Tumblr!♥ 
> 
> Tumblr: roger-drummer-taylor

**May 17th 1974; 12:31am**

 

Roger remembered vividly when all this had started but never in his life had he thought it would end the way it had been. If the drummer would have known what was wrong with his boyfriend, he would have intervened much, _much_ earlier. He should have known; he should have noticed.

Just a few hours ago, Freddie, John, Roger, and Brian still had been in the states and only about a day ago they were still performing in Boston and now the boys were already back in London. This was wrong. This wasn’t supposed to be. They should still be in America, they should still be touring but most of all their guitarist should still be with them; he should still be feeling fine.

But Brian wasn’t.

 

“You really shouldn't blame yourself, Darling. None of this is your fault.” Freddie tried to comfort Roger, even though he was just as worried.

 

“There is! He fucking told me about his symptoms and I didn’t do anything.” The drummer said, his voice was drawn with desperation and worrisome as he was resting his head on his hands.

 

“You didn’t know better, Rog. There’s nothing you could have done to prevent it.” John stated, who was huddled up close to his dark-haired boyfriend, searching for comfort himself. Also, he was scared more than ever.

“Brian wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”

But Roger did.

 

**January 27th, 1974**

 

The first time the curly-haired man mentioned the slight pain in his abdomen to his boyfriend, was before their first concert in Sunbury; a small town near Melbourne. QUEEN was still quite unknown in Australia, yet they still somehow got the opportunity to play at ‘The Sunbury Pop Festival’; actually, even as one of the first non-Australian bands.

However, January 27th, the day of their performance in Sunbury was the very first time Brian started to feel this particular pain in his stomach. The guitarist first refused to tell his boyfriend about it, though when Roger noticed how pale Brian looked, he knew something was wrong. Eventually, the blond got him to talk but the guitarist simply insisted that it probably was just the food that wouldn’t really agree with his stomach. Roger first refused to believe it though he acknowledged defeat when John told him that his boyfriend wasn’t feeling too well either.

So, yes; it was probably just the food. To be honest, it really wasn’t unlikely, after all, they had never been to Australia before. Things were a bit different on the other side of the world.

So, despite Brian and Freddie feeling unwell, they still performed that day. It wasn’t too bad but not too good either. The show would later be one of the few the band didn’t like to talk about. _At All_.

In the following days and even weeks Brian seemed to be fine.

 

**May 17th 1974; 01:2am**

 

The London Hospital’s waiting room, the three men were expecting to get some news on Brian’s state of health, was except for them, completely empty.

 

“Why does it take so damn long?!” Roger interrupted the long-lasting silence, impatiently tapping his fingers on his knees while every now and then running his hands through his long blond hair.

“What if- what if this is more serious than we thought? What if he-he...” Roger’s voice broke, he couldn’t say those words out loud, instead, he shut his mouth and tried to hold back the tears that were forming in his eyes, giving his best not to think of the worst.

 

He slowly turned his head to the couple sitting next to him. John and Freddie were still huddled up close next to each other. Deaky had his head placed and on the singer’s shoulders and seemed to be asleep. Fred, whose head was softly leaning on the bassist’s, was on the edge of falling asleep too. Though upon hearing Roger voice, Freddie lifted his head slightly, looking at him in sympathy.

 

“He will be fine, Darling. I’m sure he will.” Fred softly said, giving his friend a weak smile.

 

“But what if-if…” The drummer went on as a single tear rolled down his cheek. _Damn it!_

 

“Stop it, Dear. Please. Brian will be alright, there's no _‘What If_ ’.” The singer tried once more to calm his friend down.

 

Roger just nodded, giving his best to stay positive; to stay strong for his boyfriend’s sake.

 

**May 4th 1974; 08:58pm**

 

They’d just arrived in the Hotel in New York in which they would be staying for a couple of days before starting with their performances all around the states.

 

“Bri, are you sure you’re okay?” Roger asked his boyfriend as they entered their shared Hotel room after saying goodnight to Fred and John who were sharing the room next to theirs.

 

“Yes, love, I am.”

 

“Don’t fool around with me, Bri. You puked your bloody guts out during the flight, not to mention your constant fever. That really doesn’t sound okay to me. So, please just tell me.” Roger went on before sitting down on the Hotel bed.

 

“I’m just tired from the flight, really. Nothing a good night’s rest won’t fix.” Brian insisted, smiling at his blond boyfriend.

 

Roger just huffed and crossed his arms.

 

“Oh come on, Rog, don’t be mad at me now. You just worry too much.” Brian sat down next to the smaller man, looking into his beautiful blue eyes.

"I’m fine. Really.”

 

To be honest, Brian wasn’t feeling as _fine_ as he would like to be. The flight to the states for their tour had been extremely exhausting, plus that pain in his stomach started to occur almost every day now. Actually, the guitarist was used to long flights by now, why exactly those past two days of traveling wore him out like the way they did, he couldn’t really tell himself, though he thought nothing of it. This would fade eventually, _he hoped._

Of course, Roger wasn’t blind, he knew something was wrong with his boyfriend and he couldn’t shake the feeling it was something more serious than just exhaustion. Maybe Brian was right, maybe the drummer was just worrying too much but then again, how should he possibly stop worrying about his boyfriend. Worrying was part of being in love. Brian worried about Roger just as much, right?! Being concerned for your loved one wasn’t like a switch you could turn off just like that, especially since Brian didn’t rest on the plane at all and even before that he seemed weaker than normal.

 

“If you say so,” Roger mumbled, still not convinced of Brian’s statement at all, though he was too tired himself to start arguing about that now.

“Just promise me to say something when you’re starting to feel worse, okay?”

 

“I promise,” Brian confirmed, placing a soft kiss on the blonde’s lips.

 

**May 17th, 1974, 01:28 am**

 

Even though he had a long flight behind him and it was in the middle of the night, Roger was still wide awake. The worrisome and fear for his boyfriend was getting more intense with each passing second. He looked over to his friends who were both asleep now, well more or less.

He couldn’t blame them. The last couple of days were extremely tiring for each and every one of them. First Brian collapsing after their last concert in the states, then the boys having to somehow cancel the rest of their concerts that still had been laying ahead of them but worst of all the constant worry and fear for their guitarist’s health, especially on the flight back to London. Brian could barely stand on his own feet anymore. The concern was almost unbearable, especially since no one really knew what exactly was wrong with him. Brian wasn’t just suffering from a cold, the flu or food poisining. It must be something much more serious than that.

Roger, with his elbows on his knees, rested his head on his hands again, closing his eyes and as soon as he was doing so, he replayed the happenings of the last day in his head.

Brian collapsing in his arms.

 

**May 15th 1974; 11:03pm**

 

“Rog, I don’t – I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired. I –“ Brian slurred but he was too weak to continue; he didn’t need to, anyway.

 

Roger knew what his boyfriend was trying to tell him.

 

“I know, Bri. You don’t have to anymore. It’s going to be fine. We are going home.” Roger said, his voice was shaking, while he was holding the guitarist’s weak body in his arms.

 

“’m sorry. I know – I know this tour meant a lot to you. I’m –“ Brian weakly tried to go on.

 

“Stop it right there!” Roger cut him off, suppressing the tears in his eyes, he hated to show his emotional side but he couldn’t care less about that now either after all this was the love of his life that was suffering right in front of him.

“I don’t care about the tour and neither does Fred or Deaky. We just need you to get better. _I_ need you to get better.” Roger continued, brushing a couple Brian’s dark locks out of his sweaty and with a fever-drawn face; his beautiful face that was now bright yellow.

 

“I love you.” Brian managed to say.

 

“I love you too,” Roger whispered before placing a kiss on his forehead, his heart beating as fast as it never had been before.

 

**May 17th, 1974, 01:59 am**

 

“Your friend is his suffering from hepatitis. An inflammation of the liver, which explains his yellow skin colour and the slight yellow colour in the whites of his eyes. Even though sudden inflammations are very common, we can’t exclude the fact he was suffering from the symptoms way much longer than only the last couple of days,” The doctor who was responsible for Brian explained while looking into three tired and worried faces.

 

Roger felt sick to the bone. Brian was starting to show those symptoms back in _January/February_ , it was _May_ now.

What kind of boyfriend was he to not notice any of this sooner?! _He studied biology, he should have fucking know._

 

"We checked his patient chart and realized that Mr. May received the required inoculations before a trip to Australia. Now, we think he developed hepatitis from a tainted needle which was used for the inoculations. I’m afraid, it also developed into gangrene.” The doctor continued.

 

“Will-will he be alright?” Roger asked, his voice trembling, shocked by the news but trying to keep it together.

 

“He will be alright, yes. Thankfully, your friend is not in a life threating state of health. Though, we need to take a closer look at that gangrene on his right arm. It needs to be good taken care of. I’m committed to telling you that we indeed experienced some cases in which the end result of hepatitis led to an amputation of the infected body part, in Mr. May’s example this would be his arm. Also, few more checks are necessary, so, therefore, it’s needless to say that he will have to stay in hospital. I would say for at least two more weeks.”

 

Of course, the boys were more than happy to know that Brian was out of any life threating danger though at the mention of an amputation, Roger’s as well as Freddie’s and John’s heart dropped to the ground. This would be completely devastating and no one wanted to imagine how Brian would feel about that; about not being able to play the guitar anymore. After all, this was his life.

 

“Can we go and see him?”

 

“I would like to run some tests on the three of you first, just in case, since you have been close and in contact with him too and since you three received the required inoculations as well, I suppose. After that, you can go and see him, though only one at a time.”

 

**May 16th, 1974**

 

Thanks to QUEEN’s manager as well as a couple of roadies, the band was on the next flight from New York back to London. All further concerts had been cancelled.

Poor Brian could hardly stand or walk, at that matter, yet the boys somehow managed to shepherd the guitarist through the immigration queue at JFK in New York. The flight was nerve-wracking, Brian seemed on the edge of passing out a couple of times, his skin tone was getting more yellow, even the whites of his eyes seemed to get yellow too. The tall man also refused to eat or drink and his fever didn’t seem to want to break. At least during the last couple hours on the plane, Brian managed to sleep for a bit. It was the most awful flight the band had ever experienced and they would, for sure, memorize that for the rest of their lives. There wasn’t a single time Roger wasn’t talking to Brian, letting go of his hand or soothing his boyfriend.

John and Fred feared that the drummer would pass out himself beacuse of all the worrying and, of course, the anxious state that Roger was finding himself in, too.

As soon as the band landed, they didn’t hesitate to rush to the hospital. Obviously, QUEEN’s roadies took care of their luggage and the rest of the stuff that needed to be done.

Once they arrived in the hospital everything happened quite quickly. The boys called for a nurse who without hesitation took care of the taller man while calling for a Doctor and telling Roger, Freddie, and John to please sit down in the waiting room until they had some news.

That was exactly what they did.

 

**May 17th 1974; 04:01am**

 

After the boys got tested and were good to go, Roger was the first one to see Brian. Obviously, Fred and John insisted on it, after all this was the blonde’s boyfriend.

The guitarist was awake when Roger entered the room and to his surprise, he already looked much better than he had been a few hours ago.

Despite the news that his boyfriend was making it and that Brian was even weakly smiling at the smaller man right now, the drummer couldn’t help but let his tears escape his eyes while he was rushing to his side.

 

“It’s okay, Rog, please. I’m fine now.” Brian whispered into Roger’s ears who was softly hugging him as good as only possible in his lying position.

 

“I feared the worst. God, Bri, I thought you’d – you…” The drummer started, looking right into his boyfriend’s beautiful face which was less yellow than it had been not too long before.

“- I’m sorry I didn’t react any sooner. You told me about your symptoms and I - I should have known that something was completely wrong. I – I’m so sorry. I …” Roger went on though he quickly got cut off by Brian.

 

“Hey, shh, love, please, stop. There is nothing you should be blaming yourself for. I’m sorry for causing all this, for being the reason the tour got cancelled, for not acting on the pain sooner ... I - I myself thought it would fade eventually. I didn’t want to let you, Fred and John down. I-I never intended for this to happen, really.”

 

“I know you didn’t. You didn’t know better anyway, Bri. I probably would have done the same. Hell, we all would have done the same, really. You didn’t let us down we are just glad you’re alright. I – jeez- I thought I lost you. I thought I – Oh God, Brian. Don’t you fucking scare me like that ever again.”

 

“I will try my best.” Brian managed to chuckle weakly.

“I promise you though, you will never lose me. Never. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

“Good, because I won’t fucking allow it -” Roger said while whipping away a couple of tears and chuckling slightly himself.

“- you are stuck with me for the rest of your life, anyway.”

 

“Lucky me,” Brian answered softly, before closing his eyes as Roger placed another kiss on his forehead.

 

Somehow the couple managed to squash into the small hospital bed together with Roger resting his head on the taller man’s chest to listen to the steady beating of his heart which calmed him down in an instinct.

 

“I love you, Bri.”

 

“I love you too.”

 

**~~~**

 

With his boyfriend and his two best friends at his side, Brian recovered quite quickly and it was mid-July that QUEEN was already back at recording.

**Author's Note:**

> I reaaaally hope you liked it! Please let me know what you think!♥  
> Take care yall and stay safe! Love ya!♥
> 
> Tumblr: roger-drummer-taylor


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